Contra Veritas
by Lavernae
Summary: The story of how a young woman made the heart of a tyrant beat faster. Pairing: Darken RahlxOC
1. Chapter 1

Author's note

Hi everyone!

This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. It's about Darken Rahl and an OC by the name of Eleanor. It will eventually lead to a M or MA rating, but I'm going to try to develop the relationship slowly instead of going straight for the smut. That way, hopefully, I won't let Rahl act too much out of character. He does have a heart, but it will take some time to warm it.

Things that remain unclear after this chapter, or any chapter to come, will be explained in the following chapter. I do like cliffhanger endings…(sorry!)

By the way, I probably should mention that English is not my first language. So I apologize in advance for atrocious grammar or if I use certain words too frequent to describe an emotion :S

When I write I usually try to find a song that matches the part I'm writing. The song I had in my mind when writing about "the battle" was: _John Murphy - In the House In a Heartbeat_

Anyway, hope you'll like it : )

P.S Oh, before I forget! The disclaimer. I'll just post it now for the whole series because I'm pretty sure I'll get annoyed if I have to post is again and again.

Disclaimer:The tv-series Legend of the Seeker and it's characters do not belong to me and I do not, in any way, profit from this story. This story is purely written for my own amusement and those who wish to read it. However, I do take credit for the character of Eleanor and the plot, unless it is an event that occurs in the show.

She moved to a defensive stance, anticipating her opponent's next move. The dark hared man launched at her. She quickly turned her back into his chest, grabbed his arm and threw him over her shoulder. The man landed hard on his back and groaned.

Eleanor wasted no time. She quickly dropped herself on the ground behind him, locked her arm around his neck and enforced it with her other arm. The man grabbed at her arm around his neck, but Eleanor had him in a tight lock.

"Y- you win!," he managed to say between choking. Eleanor chuckled and let the man go. She stood up and looked down at him with her hands on her hips, watching as he regained his breath and his face returned to its natural color. She extended her hand to him to help him up. With a sour look on his face he took it.

"Your skills have improved," he said, still a little out of breath: "I think you could out best most of our men." She laughed: "But not you, eh?" The man gave her a playful push and joined in on her laughter.

Her face then became more serious. "I want to join the resistance, Duke," she said: "I feel like I'm missing my calling, being stuck in the village while you and the men fight."

Duke looked at her with an understanding look on his face. "You know I can't let you do that," he simply said. "Like I've said so many times before, I made a promise."

Eleanor shook her head. "In don't understand," she said. "Since you took me in as a young girl you've been training me and yet you keep me from using them. Why?"

"Because that was part of the promise," Duke replied with a friendly smile on his face and he ruffled her hair.

"Sooner or later, I will find out," she said. Duke nodded. "I'm afraid that day will come sooner, than later," he replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by a thud caused by a travel pouch that landed at Duke's feet. When they looked up from the bag to the direction where it came from Duke chuckled. A few feet away from them stood a man with shoulder length fair hair, dressed in green and brown travel clothes. Eleanor watched as the two men greeted each other.

"Marcus, you have returned," Duke said and placed his arm around his comrade's shoulder. "And in one piece, none the less," he added with a warm smile. "Tell me, what news do you bring?"

"Lord Rahl is on a journey from the Mord Sith tower back to the Peoples Palace. He is only accompanied by a dozen soldiers. They will pass these forests in two hours," Marcus replied. He grabbed Duke firmly by his shoulder. "Do you know what this means, Duke? This could be our chance to end his tyranny and restore peace to the Midlands!"

A smile formed on Dukes face and a laugh escaped his mouth. "This is very good news you bring, Marcus. Gather the men. We must prepare ourselves." Marcus nodded and set off to get the other men of the resistance.

Eleanor sank into thought. This couldn't be right. Why would Lord Rahl leave the safety of his palace, where his magical powers are amplified? And even if he were to leave the palace, he would not be so foolish to bring only a dozen of his soldiers to protect him.

A hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. "You look troubled, Eleanor. Speak your mind," Duke's voice sounded concerned.

Eleanor looked at him with worry on her face. "Marcus' information cannot be correct."

A frown appeared on Duke's face and he removed his hand from her shoulder.

"What are you saying? That he is lying?" He asked with a stern voice. "Marcus has been with us since the beginning and he has my trust. What reason do you have for doubting his loyalty?"

"I am not saying he is a liar or that I doubt his loyalty," Eleanor replied bewildered by his reaction. "All I'm saying is that I find it hard to believe that Lord Rahl would place himself in the vulnerable position Marcus has just described."

"Lord Rahl is getting impatient. Impatience makes any man reckless." Duke said matter of factly.

For the love of the creator, why wouldn't he just listen to her? A little frustrated she continued: "That may be so, but Lord Rahl is not just any-"

"That is enough, Eleanor!" Duke cut her off, anger starting to show on his face. "I have no time to engage in pointless debate. We have a little more than an hour to prepare."

Eleanor sighed in defeat and shook her head in frustration. "Let me join your raid party. My dagger fighting skills are of better use in combat than in the kitchen. I can out best most of the men here, you said it yourself," she pleaded. "I have the right to avenge the death of my parents."

"The battleground is no place for a woman," Duke answered her with the same stern voice. When he saw Eleanor was about to protest he added: "You will do as I say!" Duke then strode off in the same direction Marcus had gone a few minutes earlier.

Eleanor's jaw tensed and she clenched her fists so hard her nails drew blood. "I will not lay my skills to waste," she muttered under her breath and started walking to the barracks where the men would gather.

When she reached the barracks she sneaked closer to the circle of men that were discussing their steps of action. She took cover behind a tree and listened.

"… we flank Lord Rahl and his men at the low road, setting up archers to the east and west. After the first wave of arrows our foot soldiers will surround them and strike…"

Eleanor had to admit that sounded like a good plan. It could work, as long they would bring at least double the men that Marcus had Duke made to believe Darken Rahl would be accompanied by.

"Our scout Marcus informed me that Lord Rahl only has a dozen soldiers with him. However, this might be our best and only chance to kill Lord Rahl and I plan to use it well. I suggest all thirty-two of us go on this mission…"

Eleanor wasn't sure what to think of that. If Marcus' information is correct, they would heavily outnumber the D'Harans, which will increase their chance to succeed. That way there would also be fewer casualties. However, if Marcus' information proved to be false, they could be massacred, leaving their women and children vulnerable to the savage D'Haran soldiers.

Eleanor had heard enough. She refused to stay behind and not know how the battle would fare. She had to do something, but what? As she sank into thoughts a plan started to take from in her mind. "Of course," she whispered to herself.

Eleanor sneaked away from the circle of men and made her way back to the village. Once there she silently entered one of the houses. As she had expected, no one was home. She walked straight to a closet and opened its doors. Impatiently, she scanned trough the contents. She let out a sigh of relieve when she found what she sought.

"You cannot stop me from coming with you if you can't see me," she thought out loud as she firmly clasped the clothes in her hand.

She sneaked out of the house and into the forest. When she was sure no one could see her, she undressed herself. She ripped a piece of cloth from her dress and used it to bind her breasts and then put on the clothes. They belonged to a man who was only a few inches taller than she was, so they fitted her well enough.

She grabbed her dagger belt with her two favorite daggers attached to it and put it around her waist. Lastly, she threw the green travel cloak over her shoulders and slid the hood over her head. Her disguise was complete. No one would recognize her now.

A few minutes later she joined the men as they set off to take position along the road Darken Rahl would soon pass. No one had noticed they were one man stronger than they should be. A sense of triumph washed over Eleanor and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

Impatiently, Eleanor en the men lay in ambush, waiting for Darken Rahl and his soldiers to arrive. Finally, after an hour of waiting the sounds of horse hooves could be heard. But they were not coming from the road.

"Ambush!" Someone yelled.

Dozens of D'Haran soldiers, both afoot and on horseback, came running through the trees from every direction like an avalanche. They were completely surrounded.

Eleanor looked around, but couldn't find the man she was looking for. "Marcus betrayed us!" she cursed. Anger boiled within her. Together with her comrades she roared battle cries and charged.

It was a heavy battle for the resistance. They were heavily outnumbered and unlike their foes, they were not adorned in protective leather and hide, making them all the more vulnerable. One by one, Eleanor saw her comrades fall.

A D'Haran soldier launched at her and she threw him over her shoulder, just like she had done with Duke earlier. But instead of trying to choke him she drove her two daggers between his ribs. He wailed and blood dripped down his mouth.

When Eleanor returned to a standing position she scanned the battlefield to see how many soldiers and men of the resistance were left, she was shocked to see that only a handful of her comrades remained. In her head she saw images of D'Haran soldiers plundering and raping in her village.

"I won't let that happen," Eleanor thought out loud. She ran to the nearest comrade she could find and stabbed the D'Haran soldiers he was fighting in his neck and kicked him aside.

She grabbed the man firmly by the shoulders and shook him, yelling: "We are losing this battle! Go back to the village. Get the women and children away from there!"

"Eleanor?" the man asked bewildered. "Go now before it is too late!" she yelled back at him and pushed him hard in the direction of the village. He stared at her, dumbfounded, but then nodded and started running back to the village.

When she turned around another soldier came at her. She blocked his sword with her two daggers and kicked him across the face.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a glimpse of a figure in a blood red cloak. It was him. It must be him. Darken Rahl. This was her chance for revenge, maybe the only chance she'll ever have.

She made a scissor movement with her arms and slit the throat of the D'Haran soldier she was fighting. From the slit artery warm blood pulsed onto her hands and hooded face, but she would not be distracted by it. Eleanor used her skilled fingers to flip the dagger over in her right hand and threw it with such force and speed, that her fallen foe had not yet touched the ground when it reached her target.

She waited for a wail of pain to confirm she hit her target, but it never came. When she took a better look at her target she froze. Her brown eyes reflected utter disbelief as they fluttered wide open with what they saw.

Her dagger hung still in mid-air, barely an inch away from where his heart should be. On his face a grin appeared that made her sick to her stomach. He pointed his index and middle finger in the air and gave them a nonchalant flick. The dagger made a 180 degree turn and now came flying back at Eleanor with even more speed than she had thrown it with.

Time seemed to slow as she watched the dagger flying towards her. She knew this would be the end of her. At least she would die the way she always wanted to. In battle.

Suddenly, her heart beat increased and her breathing fastened. Her body started to tremble as she felt a burst of energy awakening in her body. Her mind went blank and she felt as if she had lost control over her body.

When the dagger hit her in her chest she was thrown back by the hard blow, but to her surprise she did not feel much pain. However, her body felt weak. Perhaps, she had died instantly by the blow and was now a specter, she thought.

When she looked up, her mouth dropped at what she saw. Thick vines had sprouted from the ground before her and were completely entangled around the sheath of the dagger, leaving nothing of the deadly sharp metal exposed. Then the vines dropped lifelessly to the ground, freeing the dagger from their grip. "What the..." was all she could say while staring dumbfounded at the vines.

For a split second Darken Rahl's face reflected astonishment, but he quickly recovered. "Well well," he said, in a rather bored tone: "It seems my soldiers did not only fail in killing every first born son in Brennidon, but also in killing every last one of the Sit Maer." He finished his sentence looking accusingly at the D'Haran captain to his right. The man gulped.

"A- apologies, my Lord," he stammered: "I was certain we killed them all to the last child." Fear clearly showed on his face.

"There stands the living proof of your failure," Darken Rahl spat. "But, I will decide on you punishment later." Her turned his gaze to the figure whose eyes, not minutes ago, had glowed silver from under the hood and whose hands had conjured vines to stop the dagger that would otherwise have killed him.

He brought his index and middle finger to his mouth, licked them with the tip of his tongue and ran them across his bottom lip. "Perhaps this last Sit Maer could be of some use to our cause," he thought out loud. "After the Mord Sith…persuade him to reconsider his loyalty."

A few of the soldiers laughed. "His magic is now drained. He won't be much trouble now. Bring him to me," Darken Rahl ordered.

Six of his soldiers ran towards Eleanor. Their battle cries brought her back to her senses. She was now painfully aware of her weakened state. She grabbed her dagger from between the vines from the ground. If she were to die, she would take as many D'Haran soldiers she could with her to the Underworld.

The first soldier that reached her waved his sword at her, but she evaded him easily and stabbed him in his exposed chest. The soldier dropped to the ground, wailing in pain.

The next she kicked with all her might in the stomach and as he bend over she drove her two daggers into his back.

The third soldier was quicker than she anticipated. His sword sliced her left shoulder. Eleanor winced in pain. The soldier smirked at her: "Give it up you fool. You can't take on all of us."

Eleanor stepped back and threw her two daggers in the soldier's direction, who looked utterly petrified. The daggers flew past his head and landed between the eyes of the two soldiers behind him. Just when she was about to kick the soldier third soldier, before he realized he still lived, she got kicked in the back and fell to the ground. Before she could try to get up, the two remaining soldiers started kicking her ferociously. She cried out in pain as her ribs snapped with a sickening crack.

Darken Rahl had to admit he was taken by surprised to see the hooded man putting up a fight and lasting as long as he did in his weakened state. "That's quite enough," Darken Rahl voice sound. "I need him alive."

"Yes, my Lord," the soldiers replied. Eleanor received a final kick to her head before they aggressively grabbed her by her shoulders and dragged her face down to their lord.

Every part of Eleanor's body hurt. Her broken ribs made breathing hard and painful. She could not help but wish the vines had not magically appeared and saved her live. Death by a dagger to the chest would have been al lot quicker and a lot less painful.

As she was dragged she saw the battlefield littered with the dead bodies of her comrades. All of them husbands, fathers and sons who had risked their live to save what little good was left in this world.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks. She hoped Aiden, the man she told to go back to the village, made it back to the village in time to bring their women and children to safety.

When they released her she fell on her hands and knees. Darken Rahl stepped off his horse and walked over to Eleanor. When he reached her he grabbed her tightly by the throat with one of his hands and pulled her up.

"That was quite an interesting sight, Sit Mear. I could put those skills of yours to good use," Darken Rahl said. In reply, Eleanor spat a mixture of spittle, blood and dirt that had entered her mouth while being dragged in Darken Rahl's face. Enfuriated, Darken Rahl slapped her hard across her face with his free hand. Even though her hood softened the blow a little, it did not hurt any less and her bottom lip split. The taste of fresh blood filled her mouth.

"You are very brave. Or very foolish," Darken Rahl spat, wiping his face. "I think the latter. Now let me see the fool that so cowardly hides under this hood." With his free hand he threw the hood back in one clean motion. What he revealed made the soldiers gasp in surprise.

Darken Rahls's piercing blue eyes reflected utter astonishment as they stared straight into Eleanor's. The grip on her throat loosened.

"A woman?" one of the soldiers cried out in disbelief.

When Darken Rahl came back to his senses anger appeared on his face. He would not be humiliated by a woman. He again tightened his grip around her throat.

Instinctively she grabbed at his hands, trying to peel them off of her neck, but she was too weak and he too strong. Darken Ralh kept staring into her eyes until they eyes rolled to the back of her skull and Eleanor had lost consciousness.

Her body went limp and Darken Rahl let her fall to the ground. He scratched his shin as he stared at the unconscious woman for a moment, thinking what to do with her next. He could take her to the Mord Sith and have her trained, like he had intended to do when he thought she was a man. But he knew this was a rare opportunity. For a woman a more delicate approach would be more effective. And a lot more entertaining.

A Sit Maer doing his bidding. The thought made him laugh. "Yes," he decided. He would break her himself. "Load her onto the wagon," he ordered, "Send a quad to the village. Do as you please with the women and boys, but take the young girl prisoner for the Mord Sith. The rest of you will return with me to the Peoples Palace."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Thank you so much for reviewing! It's always nice to know that people appreciate your work. I hope you will keep reviewing; it really keeps me motivated to write more :) When I was writing this chapter I found out that keeping both Darken Rahl and Eleanor in character is actually more difficult than I thought. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I hope you'll like it anyway.

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"Do you both understand your parts?" Darken Rahl asked the young maid and the soldier. "Yes, my Lord," they answered, bowing their heads.

"Good," Darken Rahl said, "Because if you fail me…I will have you and you families fed to the Gar."

The maid and the soldier gulped. A sly smile formed on Darken Rahl's face. He had waited days for this moment. He opened the oak wooden door and closed it behind him as he stepped into the chamber.

Against the wall opposite of the door stood a bed. There she lay, under red velvet sheets. He walked over to the bed and slightly bent over her sleeping body to take a closer look. Long honey brown hear with soft waves framed her peaceful looking face. Now that she was clean and the swelling and the bruises were gone, he had to admit she was quite beautiful. How fortunate for her, he thought, because he wouldn't waste his time on a woman that repulsed him.

He turned around and walked to the fireplace on the left side of the room and sat down on one of the two chairs standing in front of it. He then pointed at Eleanor with the index and middle finger of his right hand and flicked them lightly. A few seconds later, Eleanor stirred lightly and sighed.

When Eleanor awoke, she found herself in a four poster bed with red velvet drapes hanging down beautifully carved mahogany posts. Where was she? Eleanor wondered. Was this what the afterlife looked like?

As she moved to sit up straight, the red velvet sheets glided down her body into her lap. The soft touch of the velvet gliding down her bare arms sent shivers through her body. Eleanor had never felt the touch of such a soft material before and she couldn't resist caressing it with her hand.

The sheets were embroidered with fine golden thread that traced the shapes of curling vines along the fabric. Her fingers traced the embroidery to the centre of the sheets where they came together in a bigger image. Curiously, Eleanor bent forward to take a closer look. She then realized it wasn't an image at all, but two great golden R's that mirrored each other.

A small frown formed on her face. She was certain she had seen these initials before, but where? A memory flashed through her mind of how eyes of steel stared straight into hers as she struggled to breathe. On the shoulders of the man's blood red velvet cloak she saw the same golden embroidered mirrored R's.

Realization hit her like a horses kick to the face and a wave of panic washed over her. This wasn't the afterlife. She was lying in the bed of Darken Rahl. She remembered the stories she had heard of how Darken Rahl rapes captured women. The thought of Darken Rahl forcing himself on to her unconscious body made her skin crawl. Anger started to boil inside of her. She had to get away from there.

She threw the velvet sheets aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. When she stood up and moved to walk, her legs gave way and she fell hard to the limestone floor. What had that tyrant done to her? She thought panicked. When she pushed herself up with her arms she saw an extended hand in front of her.

Eleanor looked up to see to whom the hand belonged to. When she saw the face of Darken Rahl she jerked back. She groaned as her back hit the bed frame.

"There is no need for panic," Darken Rahl's voice sounded concerned, but with a hint of amusement.

Eleanor grabbed the bedpost to her left and used it to pull herself up. Her legs felt less weak then they had a minute ago, but she knew she wouldn't be able to run let alone fight.

"What have you done to me?" she demanded to know, her eyes narrowing in hatred.

"I ordered my sorcerers to attend your wounds," Darken Rahl replied matter-of-factly: "They kept you unconscious for a week to speed up the healing process. That is also the reason why your legs feel weak. But you need not worry; my healers informed me that the strength of your legs will return within the hour."

Eleanor had been so amazed by the luxury of the bed sheets that she had not realized that she felt rested and that the pain had gone. She ran a hand over her ribs. Darken Rahl was right, they were healed. Eleanor felt very confused. She didn't understand what was going on and what he wanted of her. "What do you want of me," she asked, her frustration clearly audible: "Why have you spared my live?"

"Like I told you, I could put your powers to good use," he replied.

"My powers?" Eleanor thought out loud, a frown forming on her face. What was he talking about? She thought.

"Why yes. Your powers as a Sit Mear," Darken Rahl answered with a slight frown on his face. Was she trying to deceive him into thinking she did not have any powers? Did she take him for a fool?

Eleanor remembered he had called her a Sit Mear on the day of the battle, but she had never heard of such a thing and was certain no one had ever called her that before. "I have never heard of these… Sit Mear you speak of," she said truthfully.

"You do not know what you are?" Darken Rahl asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. When Eleanor looked away in response, he had to turn away from her to hide the sly smirk on his face. This would be much easier than he had anticipated.

"I will explain all to you," he said, turning back to her. "But first, will you tell me your name?"

Eleanor hesitated, but then reasoned that it would not matter if he knew her name. She was at his mercy either way. "Eleanor," she answered coolly.

Darken Rahl nodded his head: "Eleanor," he repeated in his thick voice.

Eleanor felt shivers running up and down her spine when he spoke her name. Her body's reaction to his voice repulsed her.

"Just Eleanor?" Darken Rahl asked. "You do not have a family name?"

Eleanor shook her head: "No. I was orphaned when I was a young girl." Her eyes narrowed: "By the hands of your soldiers." She glared at Darken Rahl, waiting for his reaction.

"Apologies," he replied, looking away: "My soldiers did many unspeakable things to the people of the Midlands. But know that when I became aware of their… bestial behavior, I punished them severely."

He sighed and turned back to look at Eleanor with worry on his face. "You must have felt so frightened and alone. Tell me, what happened next?"

Eleanor frowned at him. She didn't know what to make of him. Was he playing her?  
"The Resistance found me and took me in," she answered. "I do not recall anything prior to that point. The healer in the village told me I must have lost my memory due to serious head trauma."

Darken Rahl had to try his best to keep himself from laughing. He could not believe his luck. The woman did not remember anything from her live before she was taken in as a child by the Resistance and she did not know what a Sit Mear is. He could make her believe anything, as long as he played his part right.

"But if you do not remember anything of your life before being found by the Resistance, how do you know your parents were murdered by my men?" he asked.

The question caught Eleanor off guard. She had never realized that she had no memory of her parents' death. So how could she know? It was just a fact that had always been in her head and that she had never doubted to be true. "I just know," she said brusquely.

"I see," Darken Rahl said, scratching his chin. How very curious, he thought. "Thank you, Eleanor, for confiding in me."

Eleanor huffed, but didn't say anything. She just looked at him, contemplating about his intentions.

"I shall now tell you about your people, the Sit Mear. Perhaps it is best if you sit down," he said while gesturing to two chairs standing in front of the fireplace.

"I will stand," Eleanor answered him coolly.

She had to hold the bedpost to support herself and yet she kept her head high. Her stubbornness amused Darken Rahl and he chuckled shortly.

"As you wish," he said: "The Sit Mear are rangers, skilled dagger fighters and masters of stealth. In fact, they are so well trained in stealth that it gave rise to the legend that the Sit Mear could become invisible. They also possess elemental powers. That of the element of earth to be precise. With their elemental powers, they can manipulate plants. They use it to for example to ensure good harvests, but also in combat, like you did. Do you remember the vines that prevented the dagger from hurting you? They were conjured by you."

"I made those vines appear?" Eleanor stared at him in disbelieve.

Darken Rahl nodded. "The Sit Mear have been the protectors of D'Hara and the House of Rahl for many era. Unfortunately, when I became Lord Rahl, your kind was hunted down to the point of extinction by my enemies, because they were afraid of their skills and magical powers. To my knowledge, you are the only one left alive."

A shock went through her body. She? A protector of D'Hara and the House of Rahl?  
"You lie!" Eleanor exclaimed bewildered.

"I was afraid you would say that," Darken Rahl answered with a sigh. "It was only to be expected that they would poison you against me." He looked at her with a look of hurt that both surprised and confused her.

"But think about it. Have you never had the feeling that you were not fulfilling your purpose?" he asked her.

She remembered her conversation with Duke when she told him she felt like she was missing her calling. "I have," Eleanor thought out loud, surprised that he had just described what she had always felt like.

That was it. Her sense of duty was her weak spot. He had her right where he wanted her, Darken Rahl thought, rubbing his right hand with his left hand

"They wanted your powers for themselves," Darken Rahl said. "Your presence alone influences the growth of plants." He explained: "Try to remember, has there ever been a bad harvest in your village?"

Eleanor thought about it. Much to her surprise Darken Rahl was right; they always had plenty of food. Even in times of heavy rain fall, when the others villages had failed harvest.

"They would not let you fight, because they couldn't risk losing your powers. What if you were killed or worse, remembered your true purpose? That was the reason why you had disguised yourself as a man, wasn't it? Because you had a feeling that you needed to be in that battle," he reasoned with an understanding tone. "Don't you see, Eleanor? Destiny brought you back to where you belong. Back to me."

This was going very well, Darken Rahl thought. She had not interrupted him in a while, so she must be starting to believe him.

"They were selfish to keep you from your true purpose," he continued: "Your powers could have done so much good to so many more people, had you been here in D'Hara all that time. I could have fed both the people of D'Hara and the Midlands when they went hungry when their harvests failed."

He looked at her to see her reaction. She looked puzzled, but he had her full attention.

"Let me train you to your full Sit Mear powers and aid me in my quest to bring peace to the three territories," he pressed.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Yes?" Darken Rahl answered. The planned interruption had come just in time. The door opened and a soldier walked in. "The people of D'Hara await your appearance, my Lord," the soldier said.

"I will be with you shortly," Darken Rahl answered and he waved the soldier away. The soldier bowed his head and closed the door. Darken Rahl shifted his gaze back to Eleanor.

"Eleanor, I understand if what I have told you may have been confusing of perhaps even shocking to you," he said in a comforting tone that was matched by the expression on his face. "Until you have decided on your answer, you will be a guest in my home. You are free to explore the castle and the castle grounds. But please," he added while looking at her intensely: "Do not take advantage of my hospitality by trying to leave without saying."

Eleanor looked straight back at him. She wanted to say something clever, but she just couldn't find the words.

"Now, if you will excuse me," he said while getting up: "I have urgent matters I have to attend to." When he closed the door behind him he felt quite pleased with himself. Everything was going exactly according plan, he thought with a smug look on his face.

Eleanor was left alone in the room. Utterly dumbfounded and confused. After a few minutes of staring to the fireplace she let go of the bed post she had been holding throughout the whole conversation with Darken Rahl. She realized she now stood a lot more stable on her feet and she slowly walked to the bed to sit on it and replay the conversation in her head. The things he had told her made sense. Was he right about the Resistance taking her in only for her powers?

"No," she shook her head: "I mustn't forget who I'm dealing with."

But who was she dealing with exactly? Darken Rahl was nothing like the monster the Resistance had always described in their stories. Had he been right about that too? Have they always said those things to poison her against him and to keep her from her true purpose?

"True purpose," she huffed. How was she to know the truth? She thought confused. In her frustration she clenched her fist and hit it hard against the feather mattress.

The sounds of loud cheers brought her back to her senses. What in the Creator's name was going on? She wondered. With her legs still a bit wobbly, she walked to the window to see hundreds of people standing in the courtyard of the palace. They were all cheering joyfully and waving at something to her left.

When she looked left, she saw Darken Rahl standing on a balcony, waving at his subjects. When he returned her gaze and slightly bowed his head, Eleanor felt butterflies in her stomach. She quickly turned away from the window and pressed her back into the wall.

If only she were born an ordinary peasant girl, she thought sarcastically, than she would not be in this mess. 


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Thanks so much for your review, it really means a lot. My sincere apologies for the delay in posting this chapter, I've been buried in schoolwork the last few weeks. I've been working in this chapter for a couple of days now and I'm happy that I can finally post it. I hope you'll like it and I'm curious to hear your opinion.

P.S Was anyone else a little disappointed with the LotS season finale? I had expected, or rather hoped, to see a lot more of Darken Rahl. Instead, he just sat there in his Mord Sith bath, while not two episodes ago he wanted to save the world himself… what the heck happened?

The cool stone wall against her back raised goose bumps on her arms. Eleanor shivered. She moved away from the wall and paced around the room to regain the strength in her legs and to think about what to do.

The cream colored limestone floor tiles had a rugged and rustic appearance, but felt soft under her bare feet. Her fists clenched and unclenched while she was deep in thought. She thought about the twelve years she had spent with the Resistance, trying to remember anything that could indicate that they had knowledge of her powers and that they had used them, or rather her, for their own benefits.

_I __made a promise_, Duke's voice sounded in her head. But to whom? She had tried so many times to get him to tell her, but he wouldn't say. Who would benefit from keeping the truth from her?

_Sooner or later I will find out_, she remembered saying to him. _I'm afraid that day will come sooner, than later_, he had replied with a smile on his face, but Eleanor had heard sorrow in his voice. Was it because he knew she would one day find out that he and the others had been using her? Was he afraid that she would take revenge on the Resistance?

There was no way to find out what Duke knew. He was dead and so where the others. Their bodies now lay decomposing in the woods. Wild animals feasting on their rotting flesh. Eleanor shook her head to get the macabre images out of her mind.

The only one left who could tell her who she was and where she came from was the mysterious person Duke had made his promise to. But it would be an impossible task to find someone she knew nothing of. She didn't even know if that person was still alive.

Eleanor grabbed her hair with her hands and screamed. Who is she? Where did she belong? She didn't know what to believe anymore and it drove her mad. In her frustration she slammed her fist hard into the wall. The pain in her knuckles made her wince slightly. She lowered her trembling fist and leaned her head against the wall. Tears prickled her eyes and blurred her vision. Never in her live had she felt as alone as she did now.

The hollow sound of a knock on the door brought Eleanor back to her senses. The crowd was still cheering, so it couldn't be him, she reasoned. She quickly wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand.

"What is it?," she answered, trying to sound stern.

The door opened and a young woman with shoulder length strawberry blonde hair walked into the chamber. She was dressed in a green dress with a white apron over it.

"Miss Eleanor," she said with a bow: "Lord Rahl has sent me to- Oh my, miss you are bleeding."

Eleanor followed the worried eyes of the maid to her hand and saw her bleeding knuckles.

"It is merely a scratch," Eleanor answered coolly.

The maid took a piece of cloth out of the pocket of her apron and scurried over to Eleanor to wrap it around her wounded hand.

"This will ruin the look of your dress," the maid complained.

"My dress?" Eleanor wondered.

"Well of course, miss," the maid said matter-of-factly. "You can't go walking about dressed like that."

Eleanor frowned. She hadn't thought at all about what she was wearing. She looked down at her body and saw she was wearing a white nightgown, decorated with white satin floral embroideries. The material fell in soft folds down her slender hourglass form which was accentuated by a satin ribbon around her waist, the long ends hanging down. A blush arose to her cheeks when she realized the material was rather sheer. She was grateful for the strategically placed embroideries that left something to the imagination.

"Damn pervert," she muttered under her breath. One thing Eleanor knew for sure, if Darken Rahl had forced himself upon her unconscious body she would make sure he wouldn't be able to do that to another woman ever again.

"Is something wrong, miss?" the maid asked a bit worried, seeing the angry look on Eleanor's face.

Eleanor looked at the maid and studied her face. She looked friendly and about the same age as her, about twenty two years. Eleanor wasn't quite sure of her own age. The healer in the village of the resistance estimated her to be ten years old when they found her. Because she couldn't remember her real birthday, they had adapted that day as her birthday. The 12th of February. Eleanor shook the memories away. It was of no importance anyway, it's just a number, she thought.

"What is your name?" she asked the maid.

"My name is Brenda, miss," the maid answered bowing her head: "Brenda Brickenden."

"Brenda," Eleanor said: "There is something I need to know. Eleanor pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply. She found it very humiliating to ask, but she had to know. "Did Lord Rahl…force himself-"

Before Eleanor could finish her question the maid had brought her hands to her mouth and gasped in horror. "Oh no miss, Lord Rahl would never do something like that," the maid said, her eyes wide with shock and shaking her head no.

"Then explain to me what I am doing in his bedchamber," Eleanor demanded angrily.

The maid jerked back, startled by the fury in Eleanor's eyes. "Y-you are mistaken," she stammered: "This is not Lord Rahl's bedchamber. It is your bedchamber, miss."

Eleanor straightened up in surprise. "Mine?"

The maid nodded her head frantically, not quite recovered from her fright.

Eleanor looked at the maid, who returned it with caution. She couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "Apologies for losing my temper," Eleanor said with a sigh. "I am in a confusing situation; however I had no right to take it out on you."

The maid seemed surprised by her apology, but then smiled carefully. "It's quite all right, miss. Perhaps taking a bath will help you clear your mind," she suggested.

Eleanor wanted to refuse and tell her to leave her alone so she could think, but the maid looked so innocent she couldn't refuse. Eleanor took a deep breath. "Perhaps you are right."

"Wonderful," the mail smiled. She walked to the closet at the far end of the room and took out a neatly folded blood red cloak. She walked back to Eleanor and handed it to her.

"Put this on, miss. We wouldn't want the soldier's lurking eyes on you."

Eleanor threw the cloak over her shoulders. It fitted her perfectly. It was almost as if it was made for her.

"Follow me, miss. The bathing room is not far from your bedchamber," the maid said, opening the door.

Eleanor followed the maid out of the bedchamber and along stone corridors. She tried to remember all the turns they had made. A trait she had picked up during her time at the resistance, essential for finding the way out of unknown territory. After a few minutes of walking the maid stopped in front of a door.

"Here we are," she said opening the door and led Eleanor into the room.

The bathroom was even more beautiful than Eleanor ever imagined a bathroom to be. The walls where decorated with oil paintings of beautiful lakes and river and white marble sculptures of bathing women adorned the corners of the room. A porcelain bathtub with golden claw feet stood in the middle of the room, opposite to a stained-glass window. From the ceiling above it hanged a wrought iron chandelier. The last sunlight of the day fell in golden rays on the white porcelain, making it look more majestic than it already was.

"Here is some soap and a towel, miss," the maid said, handing her a basket with a white towel and a bar of soap in it. "Shall I wash your hair for you?"

The question made Eleanor laugh. "No, there is no need. I can wash my own hair."

"As you wish," The maid answered. "You can call for me when you are done." She bowed and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

When the door went shut, Eleanor put the towel and the basket of soap on the floor and let the cloak fall from her shoulder. She slowly took off her night gown and leaned over the bathtub too see red and white rose petals drifting in the bathwater. The steam arising from the hot water swirled welcoming against her face and breasts. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of the rose petals. When she exhaled and opened her eyes, she gently ran her hand trough the water. The warm water against her skin felt very inviting. Eleanor never had a warm bath before. She had always washed herself in the lake or in the river. In summer it bode a relief from the heat, but in winters she had to warm water above a fire to make it more bearable.

Slowly, Eleanor stepped into the bathtub and lowered herself into the water. The warm water felt soothing to her skin. Resting her hands on the edges of the tub she thought again of the conversation she had with Darken Rahl. Who was right and who was wrong? Did such a thing as right and wrong even exist? Eleanor was fed up with the situation. If she didn't know who to trust, she would only trust herself, she decided. Maybe she should take Darken Rahl's offer to learn to control her Sith Mear powers. After that she would decide for herself where she belonged.

Eleanor held her breath and dipped her head under water. When she came back up, she took the bar of soap from the basket and brought it to her nose to smell it. It smelled of honey and oatmeal. She loved it and inhaled the scent deeply. Then she moistened the bar with some water and used the soft lather to wash her hair and body. After rinsing, her skin and hair felt soft and smelled of honey and oats.

Now that she had made her decision, she felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders. She laid back, closed her eyes and relaxed. The maid was right, she thought. Taking a bath did help her clear her mind.

After a while, Eleanor stepped out of the tub and dried herself off with the towel. Then she put on the nightgown and cloak and walked to the door. She opened it and stepped outside to find the maid talking to a guard. When she closed the door the sound made them shift their gaze to her.

"Have you enjoyed your bath, miss?" the maid asked politely.

"Yes, thank you," Eleanor answered, giving the guard a slight nod to acknowledge him. She was now painfully aware of the fact that her cloak didn't cover as much of her as she would have liked.

The soldier nodded back and took her in from head to toe, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a crooked grin that made Eleanor quite uncomfortable. She felt the strong urge to hit that perverted look off his face, but she resisted. Instead, she gave him her most defiant look.

"Let us return to your bedchamber and get you properly dressed," the maid said, gently placing her hands on Eleanor's shoulders and turning her away from the soldier.

As Eleanor and the maid walked back to her bedchamber she could feel the guard's eyes burn into her back. She hated it when men would stare at her or women in general, in that manner. As if women merely existed for their sexual pleasure. Eleanor cursed under her breath.

When they were back in her bedchamber, the maid scurried to the closet and opened the big doors to reveal several dresses hanging from a bar. On the bottom of the closed a few pairs of shoes were neatly displayed. Most of them had heels, which Eleanor wasn't used to. She wished she would be able to walk in them without making a fool of herself.

"Now, which one should you wear," the maid thought out loud, rummaging restlessly through the closet. "Ah, yes!" she exclaimed and took out a blood red velvet dress with long, drop sleeves and a golden trim around the square neckline and upper arms. A cloth drop belt decorated with the same golden trim hanged around the waist.

"I'm sure this one will please Lord Rahl," she said.

Eleanor snorted. Please Lord Rahl? She repeated in her head a little irritated. Was that why he had brought her here? So she could please him?

"What is it, miss?" the maid asked, a little disappointed by Eleanor's lack of enthusiasm. "Don't you like it?"

"It's beautiful," Eleanor sighed truthfully.

"Well go on then. Put it on," the maid insisted.

Eleanor did what she asked and the maid laced up her bodice. The dress fitted her perfectly, just like the nightgown and the cloak had.

"Brenda," she said with a frown on her face. "How is it possible that all the clothes I have been wearing since I came here fit me as if they were made for me?"

"That is because they were made for you, miss," she answered matter-of-factly. "When I was cleaning you up after Lord Rahl brought you here, he told me to also take your measures so the tailor could make you some new clothes. He didn't want you to run around in those rags you were wearing. That was very kind of him, don't you think?"

Even though she was a little embarrassed by the fact that this girl had not only washed her unconscious naked body, but also had taken her measures, she had to admit that it was indeed kind of Darken Rahl to have new clothes made for her.

"May I ask you a personal question, miss?" the maid asked a little hesitant, still lacing the bodice of Eleanor's dress.

"Of course," Eleanor answered curious to know what the maid wanted to ask her.

"Why had you disguised yourself as a man?"

Surprised by the question, Eleanor didn't answer it immediately.

"Because they wouldn't let me fight for what I believe in," she answered after short silence. "Apparently women exist only for the pleasure of men and to serve as breeding stock." She said coolly.

Eleanor was surprised to hear the maid chuckle shortly in response. "You find me amusing?" she asked irritated.

"Oh no, miss, I admire your spirit," the maid answered. "It is just that I think that you might be a bit too hard on men. They're not all bad."

"You speak from experience?" Eleanor said in a slightly mocking tone, looking over her shoulder.

A sincere smile formed on the maid's face. "Yes, miss. My husband and I have been together since our childhood," she said. "Even though I have to admit that from time to time he can be quite a fool, he and our son make me very happy."

For a moment Eleanor felt a little silly for her harsh thinking of men.

"What are your husband and son called?" she asked.

"My husband's name is Edward and my son's name is Jeremy," the maid answered. She gave a last pull at the cords of the bodice and tied the ends. "There you go, miss. Why don't you take a look at yourself in the mirror," she gestured at the mirror hanging beside the closet.

When Eleanor saw her reflection in the mirror she was surprised at what she saw. The dress accentuated her curves in a most flattering way and the bodice lifted her breasts, displaying her cleavage in the square neckline. She never knew she could look like this, so feminine and almost royal.

"You look very beautiful," the maid assured her with a smile and handed Eleanor a pair of shoes. Not much to her surprise, they also fit her feet like gloves.

"We should go now, miss. Dinner is being served as we speak," the maid said.

With that said, Eleanor followed the maid past corridors and stairs, until they stopped in front of two huge doors. The maid slightly opened one of the doors, revealing a big dining hall.

"Come now, miss. You shouldn't keep Lord Rahl waiting," she pressed.

Eleanor took a deep breath and walked into the dining hall, holding her head high.

There he was, sitting at the head of the table at the far end. When they locked eyes, she felt the pit of her stomach tighten again. She was so close to the man who, a few days ago, she was determined to kill.

Seeing the woman dressed in the colors of his house made Darken Rahl smile a sly smile. It was his way of marking her as his property. But he had to admit, she looked quite beautiful in that dress.

He stood up from his chair and bowed. "You look lovely," he said in his charming voice, taking her right hand and placing a kiss on it.

"Thank you," Eleanor answered, pulling her hand back as subtle as she could so it wouldn't be rude.

Darken Rahl could easily tell she was feeling uncomfortable. Amused, he smiled and pulled out the chair the right to his and gestured her to sit down.

Eleanor wasn't quite used to such chivalry and she wasn't sure if she liked it. However, she knew being stubborn wouldn't help her getting any closer to controlling her Sith Mear powers, so she sat down and let Darken Rahl hold her chair for her while she did.

The steaming dishes on the table were filled with foods of nearly all sorts. Eleanor wondered why so much food was prepared for only two people. What would happen to the uneaten food? Seeing all the food made Eleanor realize how hungry she was.

"Please help yourself," Darken Rahl said. "You must be hungry."

That was something he needn't say twice. Eleanor began loading some spiced roast chicken, boiled potatoes and a mound of raw vegetables sliced into strips on her plate. It took all of her self-control to not gulp down the food.

Darken Rahl watched her as she ate. "How is the food?" he asked her.

"Very good," she answered truthfully between slicing a piece of the chicken and putting it in her mouth.

After she swallowed the last sliced carrot Eleanor let out a content sigh. She took a glass of water and thought about the decision she had made. They would have to talk about it sooner or later, so why not now? She thought.

She took a deep breath and shifted her gaze to Darken Rahl. "I have thought about what you have told me…," she said.

Darken Rahl could barely believe what he heard. Was she already willing to pledge her allegiance to him? No, it was too soon to trust him completely. Even for a woman, he thought. He had to earn more of her trust before he started training her. He wouldn't want her to use her powers against him after she had learned to control them.

Before she could continue he raised his hand to stop her and gave her his kindest smile.

"Eleanor, I don't want you to feel pressured to give me an answer straightaway. I know how it feels to be betrayed by someone close to you. You feel angry and confused and those emotions cloud the ability to make good decisions. Please take your time to think it through."

Eleanor was taken aback by his kindness, but she didn't need more time. Before she could protest Darken Rahl got up from his chair.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He bowed graciously and then walked away, leaving Eleanor once again in utter confusion just as he had meant to.

As Darken Rahl made his way to the library he was very pleased with the progress he was making with the Sit Mear. Oh, how he enjoyed manipulating people. He was rather good at it too, he thought smug.

He was quite young when he had discovered his impeccable insight into a person's character. He always knew exactly how to motivate people into doing something for him. For most people either the promise of power and wealth or threatening to kill their loved ones worked perfectly. But this woman was different, he thought. She didn't care for riches and he had made her believe her loved ones had betrayed her. Maybe she was not yet fully convinced of the latter, but she would be. Soon.

"Yes," he laughed a sly smile and ran the tip of his fingers across his bottom lip. She had nothing left but her strong sense of duty and her need to be useful. Both of those traits made great soldier material.

When he reached the library he walked to a cupboard and took out a bottle of brandy and a glass. He then took a seat in the armchair behind his desk and poured himself a glass of the golden brown liquid. Bringing the glass up to his nose, he inhaled the scent. It smelled of oak, vanilla, caramel and dark fruits. Then he swirled the brandy in his glass and took a sip. The liquid warmed his throat as it went down. He let out a content sigh.

This was very good quality brandy, he thought. Perhaps he would pay the distillery a visit some time. He wasn't much of a drinker, but he did enjoy an occasional glass of brandy or spiced whine. Especially when he was in a good mood, very much like he was now.

His thoughts wondered back to the Sit Mear. It might take a little time before she would be fully under his control, but he had plenty of it. At least until he would grow tired of her. If that were to happen he would just send her to the Mord Sith to have them break her the hard way. But that of course, wouldn't be nearly as much fun, he reminded himself. He always found the people broken by the Mord Sith too submissive for his liking. Frankly, they usually annoyed him so much he always ended up sending them on suicide missions or killing them himself. But where's the fun in killing someone who is honored to die by your hands?

"No," Darken Rahl decided. That would be a waste. No, he would be patient and keep in mind that her powers could be of use. His people would never go hungry again and having plenty of food he would then also be able to supply the other two territories with food in times of need. In exchange for their loyalty, of course. He let out a smug laugh and took another sip of his drink.

He could tell she was starting to believe that perhaps he wasn't such a villain after all. It wouldn't be long before she would trust him completely and pledge her allegiance to him. And he would of course receive her with open arms. Darken Rahl shook his head in amusement. Women are such feeble things, he thought. 


End file.
